fagplayland

I am a fag the need to be used and abused this is just some of the stuff I like done to me if you live in California let me know I pay alphas to bully and humiliate me

[xiaoyuancun]

[oinkpig]

it asked for some time in the garden

[bddsdl]

(Fiction) When he caught me trying to break into his home, he gave me a choice, it would have been my third strike, consequences i would not want to have to face, so he pretty much had me in his hand.

He made me dig that hole, he made me build those concrete walls and floor, he made me strip and enter it, he made me watch as he placed the barred cover with attached solid covers and bolted thoseon to the concrete.

i still believed this temporary type punishment would be better than what expected me when being reported.

But... Those solid covers just have opened again, that happens irregular, i can never tell if or when he may come around, he's going to dump that bucket full of food rests down on to me, then he's going to dup a few buckets water over me, and then those covers close again, leaving just that small round circle for me to see the sky above.

It was disgusting at first, but hunger and thirst make you accept a lot, especially when that is the only contact you have as well. It's been a few years now, i regretted a million times not having let him report me, at least prison lets yo move around, is a decent space to be calling your cell, gives you a decent way to eat, drink and empty yourself,clean yourself and all that.

I have given up shouting a long time ago, nobody responds, and the last time he talked to me was also about 1.5 years back, that's when he made it undoubtingly clear, i was not going to leave this prison hole ever and by that time i already had realized that there was no way to get out.

If only i had let him call those cops...

[therestrained-deactivated201709]

Recurring Slave Dream

I wrote this a while ago. I still have this dream sometimes. 

I go to the appointed place – an abandoned building in an unfamiliar city. The building has lain vacant for at least a decade, perhaps longer, and has been long since stripped of furniture or anything else that makes it look usable. I had to double-check the address several times before I went in, and when I went in it took me a few minutes to find the instructions that had been left there for me by my future Owner.

In the center of a cavernous room, lit only by an electric lantern, I find a small cage, and in that cage I find a pair of handcuffs, a set of leg irons, a gag, a locking isolation hood, and a letter. The letter is in an envelope with my name. I picked it up first and read it.

This is your last chance to back out. After you follow these instructions, you will become my permanent property and will remain as such for the remainder of your life. If you have any doubts, leave now. The opportunity will present itself again. If, however, you are ready to accept your life as a slave and to become a slave object, you are to place the leg irons around your ankles, put the gag in your mouth, put on the isolation hood, shut and lock the cage door, cuff your hands through the bars of the cage and behind your back, and wait. I will come to collect you shortly.

I know that if I walk away this time I will never work up the courage to come back. So I crawl inside the cage. First one leg cuff, then the next. A sick thrill goes through me as I hear the cuffs ratcheting, but I could still escape, if I wanted. The gag goes in next, a thick panel gag with a cock head that filled my entire mouth, and then what little light there is goes away as I place the leather hood over my head, pull the laces, affix the buckles, and finally stick the small padlocks in their places. But even like this I could escape still – I could wander around outside until someone found me and helped me…

But once I lock the cage door shut, I have sealed my fate. There’s nothing left to do but finish the instructions. I thread the handcuffs through the bars of the cage, clasping one wrist, and then another, until I am left completely immobile.

I’ve done it. There’s no way to back out now. I sit like this for what feels like an eternity, but in reality it is probably only six or seven minutes until I am dimly aware of noises outside of the cage. I feel the entire cage being hoisted onto a dolly, and I, cage and all, am carted roughly through the abandoned building, down a ramp, back outside (I feel the change in the air), and I’m finally lifted onto the back of a truck of some kind. Maybe a van or something, I can’t really tell.

Where am I going? I was never told. I was not told where my Owner lived. I was not told where I was going. I understood that that was part of the deal, that I would never have any clue where I was going.

He dives around for many, many hours. I grow very hungry in the meantime, and thirsty, and several times I cannot  contain my bladder and piss myself, but even though he stops at least six times, I am never asked how I am doing, and I’m not offered anything to drink or eat.

We finally stop. I think we’re in a garage, or something, but I can’t be sure. The cage is roughly pushed from the back of the vehicle and lands several feet below; I grunt in surprise by the force of me hitting the ground. The cage is loaded back onto the dolly, and it and I make a trip up a ramp, through a flat area, and then down another ramp – this ramp is much longer, so I assume we are heading into a basement of some sort.

I am unloaded. I hear the dolly being pulled away, and the cage door opens. Finally, after several minutes, my captor begins to unlock and unbuckle the isolation hood.

Even without the hood, it’s very dark. My captor sits in the shadows, and I am still unable to see his face clearly, but when he speaks finally, his voice is smooth and fluid, baritone and full of authority.

“You are now my slave,” he said. “You have forfeited any rights you once had. You are now an object, without rights. You will never again be free in your lifetime.”

I let the words sink in. I am still gagged, so I nod in acknowledgement.

He comes back with a pair of scissors, a full chastity belt, and what looks like a tube of epoxy. He slowly cuts away my clothes, leaving me restrained in the cage and now naked, revealing my fully erect penis. I understood going into this that chastity would be part of it, but now that I am looking at the chastity belt, I have misgivings.

It’s too late for that, however. He steps inside the cage to put the belt around my waist, slipping my cock into the sheath that is prepared for it, and after a surprisingly short amount of time I am completely belted, my cock locked in a steel pod that reveals only my testicles. Without preamble of any kind, he rubs the epoxy into every lock and crevice in the belt. He places the hood back around my head, buckles it, and leaves.

I drift in and out of sleep, constantly aware of the steel around my cock. I am awakened later by the buckles of the hood coming loose.

“The epoxy has dried,” he says. “You will never cum again, slave.”

I look down to see that he has a collar in his hands. The collar is thick steel, and the chain goes from the collar to the concrete floor. “You will have eleven feet of chain,” he says. “It is just long enough for you to reach the toilet. Once this collar goes on, I am going to seal it just like I sealed your chastity belt. You will never again leave this basement.”

I closed my eyes as I feel the collar go around my neck. The steel is cold, and heavy, and heavier still is the knowledge that it will define my entire existence as an eleven foot radius. The collar snaps closed, and he fills the hinges and lock with the same epoxy he used to make my chastity permanent.

Finally, heavy wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. I am released from the temporary ones and from the cage just long enough to sit in position. The ankle cuffs are connected by a one-foot chain, but the wrist cuffs have only d-rings to attach locks and things. Both ankle cuffs and wrist cuffs are sealed permanently.

My wrists are locked behind me with a single padlock.

“I will come back later to feed it,” he says. “Its diet will consist of cold oatmeal mixed with energy shakes. It does not deserve to have food like a person.”

He puts the hood back on my head, and leaves. I am left, naked, gagged, chained, sealed in chastity, collared and bound, on the floor.

I have become an object. And I still have not clearly seen my Owner’s face.        

[splitdik]

This faggot’s dream, too. Although it fills the faggot with terror it knows in its soul that this is its fate. And that it must take an active part in its descent to object status and being completely open and vulnerable to its Owner. 

[objectd-deactivated20220216]

Let’s be sure the meaning is completely understood here…

THERE ARE NO LIMITATIONS TO WHAT CAN or MAY BE DONE TO an Object. IT can be sold, traded, modified, altered, damaged, enhanced, or otherwise changed in ANY MANNER at will and for ANY REASON WITHOUT CONSENT or APPROVAL.

THIS IS AN OBJECT!

[torturesadist]

There is something about this object’s dream that is very appealing. I’ve often thought that when the time comes, several years down the road when my current responsibilities are over, that I have the time to own an object that parts of that object’s dream would be good to make reality in taking an object. It appeals to be able to take an object, that the object never knows my identity, where I live or ever allowed to set eyes on me. I feel that not knowing what its Owner looks like would be a great advantage and in another way torture the object’s mind more.

Before taking the object, a couple of inspections of the object would be necessary. That can always be done other places and the object made to put a hood on before the inspection.  Special Lighting can be used when inspecting its face.

I would not have the object chained to the one room in the basement permanently. That would limit just where I could torture and be amused by the object. I will experiment with making things like a chastity belt or collars permanent as today what is really permanent, just usually difficult to remove, which is very appealing. Though change is sometimes hungered for when looking for amusing entertainment.

“object, there is such a long list of body modifications to be done in its immediate future. Ultimately, it will not have control of anything, even its breathing will controlled a good portion of the time. As my object, it will be conditioned with mind altering programs to indoctrinate it to its new life. Besides what I have recorded for it to hear, it will also have the final clear words  of itself and begging me to bring out the object that always been inside it and afraid to act upon ringing in its ears on a daily basis. it will only hear, see, touch, smell or feel what I want it to feel, which will be on rare occasions. it will be given nutrition, but nothing that it can taste. With the modifications done to its mouth, it will be difficult to get nutrition down. Speaking will be a rarity, and will be difficult to repeat what I want to hear. it will relief itself only when it feels like it will bust apart and I unlock the plugs. its life from now on will be very frustrating and torturous. object, it knows that this is what it always wanted.“

[ropenbag]

Im not quite ready for this. But i could deffinately enjoy parking one of my trucks, in a predetermined spot. Have a potential slave, climb into the back and lock himself like this, as required. It would make a good start to a test visit. Im sure the sub ., would be very excited, at least at first.

[extremesf]

Damn, if only this kind of thing actually happened!

[diaperjimmy1]

Please REPOST   IF U ARE BI OR GAY FOR WE CAN FIND EACH OTHER  

[inm851]

Storage a soundproof but when the door shuts they here the moans and struggling they try, even after a month still. they are kept in silence when they are out but still keep the hoods and gags. Whether it is for doing the cleaning, gardening and what the master wants done. No that is a hole, not quite solitary could save several on a prison cell this way.

[lockedwriter]

Disclaimer: the beginning and the story idea isn't mine, I considerably modified it and added the few final paragraphs. You can find the original story on nifty.com. Also, pictures aren't mine.

FOOTBALL TEAM’S BITCH

It had been a filthy, bone-breaking practice, and our white practice pants were caked with mud, our jerseys soaked through by the cold, spitting rain. But I didn’t complain. Junior varsity freshmen don’t complain, not if they want a chance to ever play in a real game. I wasn’t a big guy, not by a long shot. I still looked like a teenager - but then again, I was. I was slight and had to look up to most of the other guys on the team, but I was fast and wiry and surprisingly hard to plant in the turf once I got my feet under me, so I had a thought that I might be a pretty good running back. I had been, back in high school, but I was quickly learning that college is a whole other story. As the smallest guy on the junior varsity team, I was just about invisible to the larger, first-string players. I kept it that way, figuring the best way to show myself was on the field, by taking the pain of practice and never complaining, and the coaches at least had started, I hoped, to see something in me. It was early in the year, the other students hadn’t even arrived on campus, and classes hadn’t started. That’s how early we began football practice.

I had just begun to lift the pads from my shoulders, trailing wet nylon over my face, when a loud hoot echoed off the locker-room walls. I didn’t think much of it. There was always a lot of noise in the lockers, howling and bragging and yelling. But this shout was a signal. I’m hard to plant, but only on the field and only if I know what’s coming. Plus, they didn’t even try to plant me. Hands - one pair still wearing a pair of sticky wide receiver gloves - grabbed at me, two pair on my arms, two on my legs, and they lifted me from the ground as easily as pulling a weed. I flailed, but I still had my pads half-off, half-on, and the clammy nylon practice jersey clung to my face. A storm of laughing voices drowned out my own cries. The quality of the sound changed, and they yanked my pads off, baring my chest with its wet, clinging under layer of tight Lycra.

They’d carried me into the storage closet, a room filled with various bits of gear, uniforms, pads, elastic bands and other workout gear. It was a room we mostly stayed out of, on coach’s orders. Jeering faces looked down at me, smeared with mud, a couple with helmets still on. Jarrett was a wide-bodied fullback who probably had a good eighty pounds on me. He had my legs, both of them, and while I tried to twist and kick at him with my muddy cleats, I got nowhere. He just grinned up at me, a shaved-headed ape with a vicious glint in his eye. Nate had one of my arms, the first-string quarterback, a blond stud who never had trouble getting his dick wet on the weekends - at least, judging from his locker room talk. And the Chad pinned my other arm, a tight end that could bench-press me. A grinning second-string running back, Keith, was digging at the laces of my pants. I gulped air, considered screaming. But Nate must have seen it in my eyes. He pinned my arm between his thighs and clamped a hand over my mouth. I tasted mud and rain and sweat on his skin. I tried to pull my hand free, pressed between the smooth, wet fabric of his practice pants, but I couldn’t get it out. His legs were too strong. They were all too strong. And I didn’t want them to get my pants off, because once they did, they'd see my dirty little secret. I flailed and blushed and twisted and got nowhere, and the running back yanked down my practice pants. Jarrett got my cleats off, one at a time, holding both ankles tight in one massive, meaty hand while he worked the laces with the other. Then they raked my pants off, and with them my wet football girdle, the lycra sliding smoothly down my hairless thighs and that was it… my little caged cock was now exposed to all of the football team. “wooow look, what the fuck is that!” said Jarrett, and the others mainly laughed and repeated the same sentence even louder. “I was sure he was a fag, look at his tiny little locked numb, how pathetic!”. They continued laughing for quite some time and I was completely red of shame. Keith flicked my locked cock. It was bobbing in the cool air. I flinched from his touch, but my cock didn’t shrivel. Their laughter was almost a solid thing, holding me down as firmly as the hands.

Duct tape ripped behind me, and they looped it around my wrists, then around my ankles, all the way up to my knees. I did have some hair on my calves, but I figured I wouldn’t once I got out of this tape. Nate leaned down, neatly sculpted blond eyebrows drawn together. “You a faggot?” he asked. I grunted negation into his palm. But he didn’t look convinced. “I think it’s pretty obvious now that you’re a faggot” he said. “Don’t know if we have any use for a faggot on the team. Huh, what do you think, guys?” They howled and barked, more animal than human. Someone looped more duct tape around me, binding my upper arms to my chest, my lower arms to my abs - I was helpless, completely mummified in it. I even felt more layer being added to my already mummified body. Soon all of my skin disappeared under layers and layers of thick duct tape, making me completely powerless and at the mercy of my team; there was absolutely nothing I could do except breathing.

I tried to struggle, but that just made my cock harder in my cage. Keith kept flicking my dick and balls. He was a sneering little punk with knuckle tattoos that said LOVE and HATE and a slicked-back high and tight that was almost a mohawk. No one really liked him; even the coaches didn’t care much for him. But he was a hell of a running back and one of the hottest guy on the team. They laid me down on a lifting bench, then flipped me. My drooling cock rubbed the torn plastic surface of the bench, and fingers rubbed and probed at my ass. “You can always tell if they’re fags” Keith said, “’Cause they’ll have loose, soggy assholes like a girl’s pussy.” “Don’t know what girls’ pussies you been playing with” Jarrett grumbled. “Just your mom’s” he said. A finger - I have no idea whose - brushed my hole, and a warm spasm flickered over me, uncomfortably close to orgasm. I didn’t know why this was turning me on, if that’s what was happening, or if this was just a reaction to fear. I struggled, but could barely move, and each wiggle or twist just rubbed my cock against the bench, bringing me closer to a humiliating caged orgasm. “Seems pretty tight to me” was the verdict, and the finger withdrew. They flipped me back over.

Someone had taken off their sweaty, very smelly, and dirty football sock, wadded it into a thick ball, and they shoved that into my mouth, well Keith violently shoved it into my mouth looking at me with the same little smirk “can’t have you making too much noise right faggot”. A thick strip of duct-tape went over that, and nearly five times around my head. “enjoy your little faggot meal” said Keith. Then the team decided to tape me to the bench to make me even more immobile and powerless. They started to put layers and layers of duct tape efficiently taping me to the bench and making me even more immobile than before. Even my taped mouth and head was strapped to the bench with more tape, then I saw Nate’s beautiful face again “that should keep you in place haha, in your faggot bitch place!”.

About half the team was either in the room or watching from the locker room, and almost all of them had their phones in hand, recording this, maybe putting it on the internet. But then Nate leaned over my face. “You got a little dirty during practice huh bitch” he said. “Time for your shower” He gathered a big wad of spit in his mouth, rumbled in his throat to augment it with snot, and launched it to splat right against the side of my nose. It trickled down my face slowly, tickling, but I couldn’t wipe it away. They followed the leader, then, each of them adding a gob of slimy spit to my face, until I had to hold my breath to keep from inhaling it up my nose and drowning in the team’s saliva. It seemed everyone on the team contributed a wad of spit to my face. Spattering me, jeering at me, laughing at me. I was no longer invisible to them, that was for sure. I thought it would never end, spit and insults and occasional slaps at my treacherously caged cock and taped face.

But then they left, and on the way out, Nate flicked off the light. “Sleep tight little faggot bitch and enjoy your homemade facemask!” he said. I figured that’d be the end, that it’d be over. I figured they’d leave me there for a while, until either I was rescued by the cleaning people or, more likely, Nate would come back and untape me and let me go and we’d all have a laugh about it. But it was barely the beginning. Because while they still shouted and howled and cranked the music in the locker room, they hadn’t forgotten me.

In fact, a few minutes later, the door opened and the lights came back on. Jarrett stood over me, still caked in mud. Didn’t these fuckers have classes to get to? I had bio of cells in a half an hour, and if I didn’t get out of this duct tape and shit I’d miss it. Jarrett smiled big, broad face and square jaw, like a politician seeking votes. “Hey, little bitch.” He’d taken off all his clothes except his football girdle, tight white fabric stretched over his broad thighs and ass, a substantial bulge in the front. They did nothing to hide the line of his penis against his soft, thick balls. His body was hard with muscle, but a soft layer of fat covered them, smoothed them out “like what you see huh?”. I grunted in the tape. Something like “let me go” but it came out all in vowels. The sock against my tongue and teeth was gritty and salty. Someone’s foot sweat. I didn’t even know whose.

Jarrett stood over me, turned around and started straddling my face “now you’re gonna love this as much as I do fag”. Then he lowered his fat, muscled and magnificent ass. Sweat had soaked through the spandex, making it translucent, and the dark line of his ass crack descended over my face, my nose and covered mouth. I tossed my head, but he rested some of his weight on me, trapping me with my nose in his crack. “Sniff it,” he said. “Come on bitch, do a buddy a favour and sniff my ass.” I couldn’t do anything but obey.

The tape and sock in my mouth prevented me from breathing other than through my nose, and now I smelled the dank, rich stink of his ass after a long and grueling practice. He wiggled, grinding himself against me. Then he put more weight on me. I tried to draw breath, couldn’t - only a thin thread of air slid between his clenching ass and my face. And that air was dank with sweat. I thrashed, helplessly, uselessly. I was going to suffocate here, I thought. He was going to kill me in the storage closet in the back of the football locker room. It’d be in the news. But just as my lungs burned and my breath began to slide into panic, he stood up. “You got spit all over my butt,” he said. Not my own, of course. The team’s. “Nasty.” I sucked sweet air through my nose, refilling my lungs. My heart thudded, but began to calm.

“you’re a pretty good ass sniffer, right little bitch” he said, turning around facing me again a casually slapping my duct taped face, “better ass sniffer than player should I say, glad I found you a way to be useful for us men right” he added before pinching my nose, effectively preventing me from breathing at all. He was still smiling, enjoying having me in this predicament. Then, when I thought I was about to pass out, he released my nostrils, and I was able to draw laborious breathing… but not for long… soon after, he turned around again and positioned his marvellous ass right above my face. “Ready for round two fag?” I tried shouting again, I really wanted out, but it was pointless as the sock was transforming everything into muffled cries. Then it happened again, and Jarrett lowered his big ass right onto my face. His positioned his crack right on my nose and put some weight on it, effectively forcing it closer to his asshole.

This time the smell was even stronger. It nearly made me wanna puke to think that I had my nose buried into Jarrett ass, nearly touching his dirty hole. My beautiful captor on the other hand seemed to enjoy what was going on and moaned. “nice and deep breath right bitch, must make you hard in your little faggot cage, enjoy the funkiness!”.

It must have been one hour now that Jarrett was forcing me to sniff his dirty ass. He even took off his boxer at one point, making things harder for me. Now I can tell that he must not wash it very often. He really was your stereotypical alpha jock from college. “Ho wait… I have a surprise… wait for it” he suddenly said. Being naïve I thought he was about to finally let me out of here when he started to get up and realising my nostrils from his butthole, but I was wrong. He put all his weight on me again and when I was about to suffocate, he got up only a bit and let out a massive fart right onto my face “theeere, enjoy my little gift bitch, you’re welcome haha!”. I was struggling like crazy trying to break free from the smell. I even tried screaming again but nothing. Jarrett was really enjoying it, laughing at my distress. No matter what I did, the smell wouldn’t go away and was filling my lungs. “Who would have known that a lifting bench offered a perfect height for face sitting right bitch” he then stood up and looked down at me “well, wasn’t expecting for you to like my gift that much slave, but don’t worry, I still have plenty of them for you!” he said, again turning around and sitting his sweaty ass right on my defenceless and duct taped face.  

[jockbro1991]

Written by AI but with lots of inputs and edits by me until I was satisfied with it.

Hey bitch,

I’ve put together a special little workout routine just for you. Starting soon, you’re going to be hitting the gym 3-4 days a week like the obedient sub fag you are. And trust me, this isn’t some generic fitness plan — it’s custom-built to turn you into an even more pathetic, sensitive, and usable toy for me.

By the time we’re a few weeks in, your ass and thighs are going to get thicker and rounder. Those glutes are going to push out and create the perfect shelf so your tight underwear and shorts constantly ride up into deep, embarrassing wedgies all on their own. And when I grab that fabric and yank? It’s going to sink in harder, hurt more, and stay locked in place while you squirm and whimper like the little bitch you are.

Your chest is getting worked too. Fuller pecs mean those sensitive nipples are going to stand up nice and erect at the slightest breeze or brush of fabric… making them even better targets for long, painful titty twisters, pinches, and twists. You’ll feel every touch ten times more.

And the best part? All that heavy squatting, thrusting, and pelvic floor training is going to crank your horniness through the roof. Expect more random boners at the worst times, constant leaking precum soaking into your already-wedgied underwear, and a taint and balls that get so much more ticklish and sensitive to my fingers. When you’re edged, that desperate need to cum is going to hit you like a freight train.

You’re going to train hard, send me progress pics in the tightest gear possible after every session, and watch your body transform into something even more fun to break and humiliate.

This is going to make you a better bitch for me in every way — more fuckable, more reactive, and way easier to torment. Get ready, fag. The routine is coming soon, and so is your new, improved, constantly horny and wedgie-prone self.

Now be a good boy and tell me how excited (and scared) that makes you. 😈

[bddsdl]

(Fiction) One of the friends me and my boyfriend met a while ago had this great box at home and i was always curious to try it out. After hinting for a while during his last visit to us, he seemed to finally get it and whispered into my ear: 'Come by next weekend after work'.

My boyfriend already told me he'd be working one of the recently many late shifts that day, perfect i thought and nodded.

Once there, he did not loose any time, got me dressed up in one of his military outfits, gagged, blindfolded and agsmasked before strapping me on to that board, making me definitely totally helpless. A little movement with the hands was all i could do. Then he lowered that board with me on top into that open box.

But before closing the lid he said: 'Now that i have you helpless in there, maybe a few things you should know.

In about half an hour your boyfriend will show up here also. He does not know you're stuck in this box helpless as you are, but that will be quite interesting when we have fun right on top of that box... as we did a lot of times in the past weeks. You see, he is cheating on you with me for quite some time already, basically al those late shifts he claimed to have were spent here with me actually.

This has evolved so far that we have been discussing about a potential more serious situation, which would obviously mean telling you about it and see how that continues.

Tonight, after we had great fun above you, after i fucked him at least three times right on top of you, i will at the end strap him on to the lid of this box for the night also.

He'll be gagged and helpless by then too, so he can think it over throughout the night, just like you can all the time in there.

For breakfast then i will have a long talk with him, telling him that i want more than just his 'late shifts' and will suggest that we make this a throuple, you both move in here, but while i continue having a lot more fun then with him, you'd be stuck in some form of storage most of all the time you're not working, that is for as long as you still work, as i intend to make you the house storage toy, with the two incomes me and your boyfriend have, you won't need to work anymore.

This might go either way, he an agree to it and be happy, which i believe he will do, as he told me already how he fell in love with me during those weeks. Or he will reject it all and i will lose two friends, pity then, but inevitable.

Once he made his choice though, which i am convinced will be positive towards my suggestion, we'll come down here together and enjoy the entire day and evening having plenty fun, definitely regular on top of this box too, he'll be strapped on to it again for the night.

But then I tell him about you being right underneath him, having been there since before he arrived, throughout all that fun we had. Only then that following morning i will open that lid again, show him his helpless boyfriend stuck inside, then we'll start the negotiations with you as well... But the question to clarify will then be more likely: are you two still together and add me to a throuple as i suggested or will you go home alone and your then 'ex' stay with me...

Well, you can start already thinking about your choice while you are stuçk here until Sunday morning, see you then.

Without any wait then the lid closed and i even hear him loock it.

What the heck.....

[nerdwedgiesexposed]

Bro got taken for a ride by his tighty whities, now the whole city knows his bright-white secret 😂

[mummybdsmthai]

[gagged04]

Hmmm I think he could still use more rope. He’s moving too much 😊

[cutegaytied-deactivated20190825]

Hot

[bddsdl]

Took my mouth way too full, ropes cannot hold me, i’ll escape those… Well… he said he can prove me wrong, so we met in his hotel Friday eve after i left work. He asked if i wanted to document my failure by taking a clip, i agreed, he set up my own mobile, so i had that clip to myself only, i stated my name and confirmed to be packed up voluntarily, then he started. Within an hour i laid there then, I cannot see, can barely hearable grunt, i barely hear, and i definitely can barely move.

He probably watched for a while but then finally he raised his voice to let me know: ‘The tape’s only on your head, but the rest is as promised 'only rope’ and you bragged a lot about getting out of that every time. Well… you got all weekend then to do so, but as i watched the past hour, i don’t think you’ll change even one of the current applied ropes. Here’s a twist though, that recording we did of you getting roped, gagged and immobilized, it’s sitting here on the night stand now. If you succeed to get free before Sunday noon, you can stop the programmed send function, if you fail though, that clip will upload to a whole bunch of porn sites but also be sent to everyone in your contacts list, friends, family and work alike. The TV’s going to run just in case someone standing right outside that door, those grunts of yours will be considered part of whatever’s on the telly. The DND sign will be outside, just to make sure you can enjoy your time to the fullest on your own. The room is paid until Sunday, so when nobody checks out, Sunday late afternoon some of the staff will check the room and find you, let’s hope whoever finds you is then releasing you and not abusing your helpless situation, regardless, by then that clip is also out everywhere, so… Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to brag so much… I’ll see when i check some of the sites the clip is supposed to upload if you succeeded or failed, i am pretty sure the latter will happen though. So enjoy your weekend, i’ll be heading to the airport now and fly back home.

[benx-boss]

💦💦💦

[plastsand1]

Send your fag home like this, wearing the piss soaked shirt ...

Forbid him to wash it and tell him he should wear it every time he comes back to serve you. And every time, you piss on him again...

Over time, the shirt will reek so much of Alpha Piss that people will smell it from afar and immediately know that this is a fag, Your fag !

PS : Bonus idea - Have him wear a white shirt, that will become more and more stained until it is completely yellow ...

[nerdwedgiesexposed]

Showing off that tighty whitey waistband is just asking for it bro 😂

[r3dp1ll3df4g]

Jonathan was your typical dumb libfag. He believed in equality, he voted Democrat, and considered himself proud to be gay.

All that was about to change. His MAGA roommate Mike orchestrated a plan with his MAGA bros to put Jonathan on the right track.

They grabbed Jonathan and drugged him to knock him out. When he was woke in was in some dingy room, completely naked, tied upside down, incapable of moving, with a large tub full of water right under him.

He starts screaming and yelling, seeing Mike there and demanding to be released. Mike signals one of his bros who is holding a rope. He loosens his grip of the rope and Jonathan begins getting lowered onto the tub head first. He's thrashing around, unable to get his head from underwater. 30 seconds pass and Mike signals his bro, and he pulls Jonathan back up from the water.

"You still a fag?" Mike asks as he walks up close to Jonathan, looking him directly in the eyes. Jonathan coughs as he tells Mike "Fuck you". Mike gestures his bro again and Jonathan is lowered into the tub, this time for a whole minute. His body is violently wriggling as he's starting to struggle to breathe. Mike gestures again, and Jonathan is pulled from the water "What about now?". Jonathan is trying to catch his breath, having a coughing fit, wanting to tell Mike to fuck off again.

This goes on for an hour. Each time Jonathan comes back up from the water, Mike asks him the same question, and if he doesn't hear the answer he wants, he signals his bro, and Jonathan is dunked in the water again.

By the time the hour has passed, Jonathan's face is turning blue whenever he gets pulled back up. He won't be able to sustain this much longer.

He gets pulled out of the water once more, his body completely red, in contrast with his face turning purple, having a coughing fit, and when Mike asks his question once more, Jonathan finally gives the correct answer. In the middle of his coughing, he's able to say "No".

"That's my man" Mike says with a grin as his 2 bros cheer. They pull him from above the tub and lay him on the floor, keeping him tied up. "Now for the fun part" Mike tells him as he walks to the door. Opening it and there's a woman there, fully naked. Mike grabs her and walks her towards Jonathan, "Get to it, bitch". The woman gets on her knees and begins sucking Jonathan's cock. He begs her to stop and starts wriggling around on the floor to try and get his cock out her mouth. Mike puts his boot right on Jonathan's face "You wanna go back to the dunking?". Jonathan moves his head to indicate no.

The woman continues sucking Jonathan's dick until he's fully hard, and then gets on top of him. Jonathan stays very still the whole time, fearing Mike will put him back up above the tub if he moves even an inch. As she slides down Jonathan's cock, he begins to moan. He doesn't want it to feel good, but it does.

As she rides his cock, his moans become louder. Mike takes out a knife from his pocket and cuts the ropes. Jonathan is now free. He could escape, and if he did, Mike and his bros would beat him up and hoist him back up over the tub. But running doesn't even cross his mind. Her pussy feels too good. It feels better than any guy he's been with before. As he gets closer to climax, he takes over, flips her around and pins her arms against the floor, as he rapidly thrusts. Moments later his moans turn to grunts as he does one final thrust and cums inside her.

The guys cheer as Jonathan is panting and pulling out, on his knees in between the woman's legs, looking at the cum filled wet pussy he just fucked. Mike walks towards Jonathan and helps him get up, "Fuck yeah bro". The guys congratulate him as they cheer and pat him on the back. One of Mike's bros begins chanting "One of us", Mike and the other bro join in. "One of us. One of us. One of us", as they jump, fists raised in the air. Jonathan begins jumping and raises his fist as well, with a huge smile on his face.

[varsitybull]

Another successful conversion! Good work bros!

[ben-carindae]

My new college roommate is Tyler. He's a total baseball jock hunk, but he's also very domineering and homophobic.

I must've left an equality sticker out, because when I got back, he confronted me about it. I profusely denied being a faggot, even though I'd jerked off to Tyler dozens of times, including this morning.

Finally, the inevitable happened: I was jacking off thinking about Tyler fucking the girl he had brought over last night (which I could hear perfectly, sleeping underneath Tyler), and my temptation overcame me. I kneeled in front of his dirty laundry basket and fished out the jockstrap he'd worn for practice this morning and inhaled the pheromone-laden ballsweat of my homophobic roommate.

I was instantly more intoxicated than I'd ever been before in my life, lost in a haze of worshiping a Man who was obviously superior to me. I was so horny and turned on that I was only a stroke or 2 away from squirting everwhere, when all of the sudden Tyler walks right in.

He sees me kneeling next to his dirty laundry, with his used and still sweaty jockstrap covering my face, while I'm jerking my cock.

"WHAT the FUCK!!?!!?!!"

The shock at hearing his voice when I thought I was alone led me to pull my hand away from my throbbing piece. His face was a mixture of shock, disgust, and rage.

Unfortunately my orgasm was inevitable now, and so with great shame, I moaned his name "Tyler!" in both shock, lust, horror, and shame, as my penis began to squirt wildly. It got all over his stuff, but even worse, it was a ruined orgasm, so I was just as horny as before and I didn't deflate at all.

"I'm so sorry, Tyler--"

"Shut the fuck up, you're one sick fucking faggot. And you're gonna pay for this violation, bitch!"

He marches over to the closet and grabs a small item and brings it down to show me.

"This is a chastity cage, which is going on you right now unless you want me to report you to the Dean and to the police. You'll be expelled and labelled a sex offender the rest of your life if you choose that path. So what'll it be: the chastity cage? Or expulsion and sex-offender label?"

I looked at him with shock, and slowly pointed to the chastity cage.

"Good choice bitch. Now let's get you soft, you pervert." And with that, he kicked me in the nuts harder than they've ever been hit before. I screamed, but I also got soft instantly.

He locks me in there and tells me, "You're my faggot slave, and I own you completely. Fags shouldn't ever have a real orgasm like a Man, so don't bother begging for release. Actually no, go ahead and ask any time you like, I'll enjoy telling you 'no'."

He laughed with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

"But don't worry, I'm not a monster, I'll allow you to have sexual contact still, it'll just be you servicing my feet, armpits, and if you're lucky, my cock."

6foot0

[breezintoo]

My dream roommate

[austinguy53]

How to Abuse A Slave Fag

lock it in chastity 24/7/365 Sit back and make it suck your dick, nice and slow. Train it to deepthroat your cock. Fuck its face, balls-deep, like it’s a pussy. Cock slap it. Make it lick your sweaty balls and ass even if its dirty. Make it service you in a public place (e.g., a restroom, a park, your car). Spit on it. Make it clean your sweaty ass after you work out. Make it wear a pig tail in his ass. Piss on it. Piss down its throat. Piss in its ass. Make it drink your piss from a glass. Piss on a pair of underwear, or a jock strap, then wring it out over its face. Finger his hole. Fuck its ass. Fuck him with a dildo. Tie it up and use its holes. Call it names. Tag team it with a buddy. Gangbang it with a group of friends or strangers. Whore it out to friends or strangers. Make it sniff and lick your piss- and/or cum-stained underwear. Gag it with your dirty underwear, jockstrap or cum rag when you’re fucking it. Cum on its face. Cum on its face and make him wear the load out in public. Cum on its ass. Cum directly down its throat. Cum in your hand, and make it eat it from your hand like a dog. Organize a bukkake and cover its face with multiple cum loads. Make it eat your cum off your buddy’s cock. Cum on the floor or a table and make it lick it up. Make it drink your load(s) from a shot glass. Cum on food and make it eat it. Double-penetrate it with another Top or with a dildo. Flick or twist and torture its nipples. Make it wear a butt plug out in public (e.g., to the bar, to the gym, to the grocery store). Piss on its underwear then make him wear them home. Tie it to your toilet when you have guys over, and tell them to use it instead of the toilet. Don’t let it cum. Make it jerk off or finger himself while you and/or your friends watch. Make it eat your ass. Make it clean your cock off after you fuck him. Take photos and/or videos of it servicing your cock. Blindfold it when you use it. Fist its hole. Cum in its ass. Make it get fucked by another faggot, while you watch. Make it and another faggot fuck themselves on a double-ended dildo while you watch. Make it lick your feet. Shave its body. Make it wear a pig tail in his ass. Save your piss in a bucket, and make it bathe with it. Keep it in chastity 24/7/365. Make it wear a collar and leash. Keep it in a cage. Make it do domestic chores for you (e.g., laundry, cleaning, shopping) naked in bondage and chastityeven outside chores. Make it sniff poppers, then use him. Make it wear a ball gag. Make it crawl in your presence, like a dog. Make it eat his meals out of a dog dish. Feed it your pre-cum. Make it call you “Master” or “Sir.” Make it wear a hood while you use him so that the only sensation he has is the feeling of your cock in his hole. Make it lick you head to toe Make it drink a bottle of your piss left somewhere in a public place and order him to tape it! Make a video you raping it, cuming in his ass and forcing him to drink your piss and post it on tumblr claiming ownership of it. Make it wear a pig tail and take it for a walk outside. Make it wear a collar showing your ownership in public. Make it come to your work place and service you in anyway you need. Make it wear a cock cage 24//7/365. Make it wear ball weights.

[straptight]

Sleepsack Punishment

This account is true. The names have been omitted to protect the guilty.

The night before, I had made fun of a television program he was watching. This evening I was told I would be kept out of the way and punished by being laced up in the leather sleepsack instead of watching television. If I couldn’t say something nice, I wouldn’t get to watch TV at all! I was in the mood for a couple of hours of heavy bondage, so I went along with it. Little did I know how much the punishment would exceed the crime.

It was about 9:30 p.m. when we went down to the cell - a small storage room off the furnace room in the cellar. I’ve installed cushioned flooring and extended it partway up the concrete walls. The door is heavy wood planks, and there’s only one small window, up by the ceiling and glazed with frosted glass. I was wearing only tight leather chaps and a leather cockring. I took the sleepsack down from its hanger and laid it out on the floor. The sack is all leather, with a leather lining and an attached hood. I was also to wear a second hood inside the sleepsack’s hood to reinforce the sense of confinement. I sat down in the spread-out sleepsack and inserted my feet into the bottom of the bag. First the leather hood with attached blindfold and gag was laced on. Then I lay back and slid my arms into the sack’s sleeves. The sack hood was pulled over my head and the face cover snapped down. My face was now just blank leather with only a couple of grommets for breathing. The sack collar was buckled snugly around my neck. The sleepsack was zipped up from my ankles to throat. Then he laced it, cinching the cords as tight as they would go and tying them off at several points up the front of the sack. As he laced it, he pulled on the cords hard enough to lift me part way off the floor, using my weight to tighten the cords. When he got to the section from my waist to my chin, he sort of bounced me against the floor to knock the air out of me. With each thump on the floor I gasped, and in the instant when my lungs were empty he’d tighten the laces down. After several fierce yanks to make sure there was no more slack to pull out, he tied off that section of cord. By the time he was done, I was a glossy black leather mummy.

Double-hooded and blindfolded, I couldn’t see when he turned off the light and could barely hear the light switch click and the door close. I was so turned on I knew I would cum if I moved at all. I wanted the experience to last. I just lay there perfectly motionless for a while until the orgasm urge subsided. The universe was nothing but darkness and leather completely enclosing me. All my worries, thoughts, stress and even my identity were let go. All that existed was the tight encapsulating leather and the leather cock gag invading my mouth. Eventually I squirmed a little to feel the tight leather rub against my naked skin. It felt so good that I struggled for quite a while gasping and moaning around the gag. The layers of leather creaked and sang together.

After a while I found myself lying still and resting. It took a while for me to catch my breath as the sack was so tight I could not take a full, deep breath. I had broken a light sweat, and the leather clung and sealed to my skin, holding me even tighter and more immobile. There was a pressure point around my head, and it was growing uncomfortable. I became frustrated and started really struggling against the sack; rolling back and forth and writhing violently, groaning and cursing around the black leather penis gag filling my mouth. Finally I tired and just lay there. I noticed the discomfort was gone, the hood must have shifted a little, but the damp leather was holding me tighter than ever. I couldn’t move my arms in the sleeves or even my fingers. That made me hard again. I alternated between lying there resting and humping against the smooth leather lining of the sack. The laces pulled the sack into folds over my cock. By squirming and thrusting I could work my hard cock into one of the folds. It was like being jacked off by a pair of soft leather gloves. I had to keep stopping so I wouldn’t cum. I wanted that sensation to last as long as possible.

Sometimes I thought I could hear through the part-way open window a car passing outside. I wondered how the people in the cars might react if they knew they were within a few yards of someone helplessly encased and imprisoned in leather. What if someone had heard my gagged groans and called the police to investigate? Could one of the cars be a police cruiser coming to the house? I might soon be discovered by a couple of cops in tall boots and leather jackets. Would they insist on letting me out, or would they just laugh at me and leave me to stew in the predicament I had gotten myself into? I moaned and writhed at the idea of the humiliation.

If I lay still, I could faintly hear a clock striking far above me, like it was in another world. I heard it strike once at one point. I had lost all track of time, and didn’t know if that was 12:30, 1:00 or 1:30. Finally I heard it strike 2:00 a.m. That started to freak me out. I wondered when I would be released, and if he had fallen asleep in front of the television. That thought set off a kind of fit of struggling in earnest. This was no longer a fantasy. I was tied up for real, and I was trying to get loose for real. I squirmed and kicked, flopping back and forth on the floor in fear and frustration, trying to fight my way out of the skin-tight black leather bag. I grunted and cursed around the leather cock that was jammed in my mouth like it was raping my face. I went crazy for a while, jerking and twisting violently and uncontrollably. The sweat stinging my eyes inside the hood brought me back to my senses. I knew escape was impossible. I stopped bucking and lay there for a while, catching my breath and resting, trying to calm down. I may have dozed a little, floating in the darkness of the cell.

After a while I heard the clock strike 3:00. That told me I was truly fucked. He had fallen asleep for sure. I had already been tightly tied up in the escape-proof black leather sleepsack for over five hours, and now there was no way of telling when I would get out. All I could was wait until he woke up and remembered where I was. I struggled more feebly on the padded floor, groaning around the cock gag. I squirmed reflexively. It still felt good, but I was beyond getting hard again. I lay back on the padded floor and tried to get as comfortable as I could. The night might only be half over as far as I was concerned. All I could do was wait and endure, encased and tightly laced up in leather. I was looking forward to a very long night.
 
 25.09.06

[wedgie-stories]

Does anyone know what this from?

[twsandwedgies]

@ae-boxers this nerd's name is Mauro. He wears Tighty Whities and is begging to be bullied. 😈